The Model Home Mix
by loveandsqualor
Summary: "A few months ago, he had made an unexpected discovery. It was the mix she had made for him, all those years ago...It was a dear memory, of days of newfound friendship and love"


So, let's just say I've reviewing my teenage years. I used to watch The O.C. like... a lot.

Lets just say Marissa's death left quite traumatized. I never approved the direction the show took afterwards... but yet I felt compelled to write this short ficlet. Sort of AU. I needed to get it out of my system.

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><p>So, there he was. A ring in his pocket, a nice tie and a borrowed car. He was about to propose. To Taylor.<p>

Sandy and Kirsten had helped him pick out the ring. It was, actually, a fabulous affaire: beautiful, but not over-the-top. Tasteful. He wouldn't have been able to do it on his own. Taylor was well aware of the fact that he was going to propose. After Seth and Summer's wedding, they had reconnected and had been together ever since. Marrying her seemed like the next logical step.

Taylor had pursued a career in law and was doing very well. Ryan himself was doing rather well as an architect. In fact, he had just finished his first house and was feeling quite proud of himself. Many people from several real-state companies had praised and congratulated him and were planning on hiring him on a permanent basis. Ironically, the house seemed to him almost the exact combination of that old model home, the one he had nearly destroyed all those years ago, and the Cohen's old place, the first place he had called home with a sense of peace and calm engulfing him. Seth had noticed the similarity and refused to joke about it. Luke, now happily married to some newyorker, had come down for a visit in order to see "what Chino had done for himself". He smiled at him knowingly and claimed he called him Chino "for old times' sake". Kirsten had told him the house was so beautiful even her father would've been proud. Sandy patted his back and declared he had never felt more proud in his entire life, which almost lead to sibling war between him, Seth and Sophie. Little Sophie pretty much loved everything her old siblings did. She had remarked the house was beautiful before giving Ryan a shy hug.

But the reaction from the one person who would've understood the meaning of it never came. As the years went by, he tried not to think too much about her… but at times like this, her absence seemed as fresh as ever and was nearly unbearable. He had moved on. He had found love again. But as much as he loved Taylor, there were things she would never know about him. They had met some time after his arrival at Newport. Marissa… Marissa had been there from the start. She had possessed him from the start. Where would she be, had… it not happened? Where would _they_ be? Would he be marrying _her_? Probably. He loved Taylor. He really did. But even after all this time, he couldn't help turning around in the street when he smelled her perfume on someone else.

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><p>A few months ago, while searching for an old yearbook at the Cohen's, he had made an unexpected discovery.<p>

It was the mix she had made for him, all those years ago. Apparently, Seth thought it was totally awesome and had asked Marissa for a copy. The fire had destroyed _his_ copy, but the mix was still there, intact. And so, he kept the CD, even if it wasn't his, even if it felt like going back to early grieving stages. But he couldn't just throw it away. It was a dear memory, of days of newfound friendship and love. He kept it hidden from Taylor. But he _had _moved on. The smarting pain of the first months, the first years, had become a dull ache he could actually bear, live with.

He could talk about her without losing his breathe. And so he talked. To Julie, to Jimmy. To Kaitlin, who had refused to grieve about the loss of her older sister for a long, long time. He talked to Summer, who understood.

But still, when nostalgia kicked in…

He grabbed his keys and made a quick run to the car. He was supposed to pick up Taylor in half an hour, but had forgotten all about it. He turned off his blackberry. At least an hour long drive separated from his first, actual house. Like his first months at Newport, it all felt surreal.

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><p>He parked the car and got out swiftly. He carried an old CD player in his left hand.<p>

He entered the house carefully and climbed the stairs. It was dark and quiet. He didn't want to turn on the lights. He changed the player's batteries and put the old CD in.

As soon as the music started playing, all the memories came flooding back in one big, sad wave of nostalgia and regret. He could actually _see_ Seth playing golf and fooling around in his skateboard, meals by the empty, unfinished pool… and her. Her clothes, her hair, her words, eating fries by said empty pool. He thought he could hear himself giving her that lame _"We're from different worlds"_ speech and laughed a bit at himself.

He leaned back on the wall and closed his eyes. Two hours went by without him noticing. The songs were already over. Suddenly, he felt dizzy and uncertain. But in a way, he was feeling…peaceful. His own gesture had brought him some sort of tranquility. He felt he was sharing an important moment with someone he had truly loved.

The sound of footsteps startled him. The spell of the memories was broken.

"Ryan!" he heard Seth's voice calling out to him in the dark. "Ryan!"

"Over here," he yelled back, waving an arm in the darkness.

"Dude, thank God. Taylor is freaking out. She called me like…ten times".

"Oh, no…Taylor" he mumbled "What time is it?"

"About ten o'clock"

"Damn. I'm screwed," hissed Ryan, as Seth sat next to him.

"No. Come on, I'll drive you," he offered, trying to smile. He knew exactly what was going on.

"How did you find me?"

"Oh, I had a feeling you'd be here…" he replied, brushing his question off. "Listen, I'm sorry about the mix. I didn't know I still had it. I swear to God. I should've thrown it away years ago but then… I couldn't, you know?" Ryan nodded. He understood. Marissa had been, after all, Seth's friend. "And then I thought I'd lost it. I'm sorry it ruined this day. Or any day. I really am".

"It's OK"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

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><p>THE END<p> 


End file.
